


Morning Sketches

by scarrletmoon



Series: Off-Course [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Art, Fluff, M/M, Sketches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 17:50:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5215076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarrletmoon/pseuds/scarrletmoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Outtake. In which Koushi draws Daichi.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning Sketches

**Author's Note:**

> i _think_ this was originally supposed to be be at the end of Suga and Sawamura's first kiss, but i cut it because i didn't like how i led into it, and when i re-wrote it, Kuroo ended up in Daichi's bed so this scene couldn't happen (which starts with Suga and Sawamura napping together).

Daichi wakes up a few hours later to the sound of rustling and the scratch of pencil on paper. For a moment he’s still lost in a dream where he can feel Sugawara’s warmth and feel his pulse, where if he reaches out just far enough he can slide their fingers together.

“Morning.”

Daichi squints at the figure perched at the foot of his bed with a sketchbook over their crossed legs. There’s only a small patch of street light coming through between the curtains and Daichi has to rub the gross crust out of his eyes before he can see their face clearly and remember that it wasn’t really a dream after all.

“What time is it?” His voice is hoarse and he’s pretty sure he fell asleep with his mouth open. His neck aches.

“Nine, I think?” Sugawara unfolds his legs and slides off the bed, tearing a page out of his sketchbook as he goes. “I know I should’ve left earlier but I didn’t want to go without saying goodbye.”

Daichi nods even though he’s still not fully conscious. Suga walks over to his side of the bed and plants a kiss on Daichi’s forehead. “I’ll see you later.”

“Wait.” Daichi catches his wrist and pulls him back so he can reach the dark circles under Suga’s eyes. They’re less obvious now but still very much there.  “Are you okay?”

“It’s nothing,” Suga smiles, even though they both know he’s lying. “I’ll text you tomorrow.”

“Suga-”

Suga kisses him on the mouth this time, and Daichi suspects it’s mostly to keep him from asking questions. It doesn’t stop him from worrying.

“Goodnight, Sawamura,”

He’s gone before Daichi can stop him. He's left something behind too, perched on Daichi’s bedside table against the lam. It’s the page he tore out of his sketchbook before he left. At the top, Suga has written a short note:

_I hope you don’t mind - I felt like I had to._

Daichi has never been one for photos or portraits: he doesn’t exactly avoid cameras but he doesn’t go looking for them either. He’s never asked to be drawn, not because he’s never wanted to see it done but because he’s seen how artists get harassed for sketches and doesn’t want to be that guy. But here Suga’s drawn him: it’s still pretty rough but there are certain details, like his relaxed, curled fingers and the peaceful look on his sleeping face, the curve of his throat and his collarbones that make Daichi start to believe that maybe Suga feels the same way.

Daichi stares at the drawing in his hands and tries to think about Suga with someone else, drawing another partner, holding hands with someone else, because he still can’t see how he deserves someone as good as Suga. He’s almost too sweet to be real, too considerate and loving and kind for someone like Daichi who loses their patience at little things and sometimes expects too much of others and gets angry when they can’t keep up. Suga is the kind of man who Daichi can imagine settling down with someone and being an amazing father, right down the swing tied to the huge tree in the front yard and the golden retriever.

But then again, Daichi doesn’t know if that’s what Suga wants, and he shouldn’t go around making decisions for other people. Now isn’t the time for him to angst unnecessarily about a future he knows nothing about. So he has to be sure about himself first, before he can promise anyone else anything. It’s only fair. 


End file.
